


the kink in the North

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, I Blame Tumblr, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Modern Royalty, Robb Stark is a Gift, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tumblr Prompt, the author is about to go on a throbb reposting spree sorry for the spam in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Fine,” Theon says, “you win, you win, I’m blowing you. On one condition, though.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Name it.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Wear the damned crown. It’s sexy.”</i>
</p>
<p>Or: wherein both Robb and Theon might get off on Robb being royalty. Just might. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the kink in the North

**Author's Note:**

> (hello I'm trying to empty out my 'just posted on tumblr' folder so you're gonna get spammed a lot I'm sorry)
> 
> So months ago an anon sends me 'a Theon/Robb fic titled *the kink in the North*'. I had to comply. XDDD this is basically a _Kings_ like setting in the sense that Westeros is in modern times but there's still the absolute monarchy system because I needed to justify *kink* being in the title and uhm yeah that's it there's really no plot other than I had to justify that damned title. Also sorry for the lack of in-depth smut but if I ever revisit this I'll make sure to go there. Also nothing belongs to me as usual.

“Have you gone fucking insane?”

To Robb’s credit, he doesn’t get even a tiny bit worked up. He just keeps on standing in front of Theon, arms crossed, one corner of his mouth tugged upwards while he loosens his tie enough to open the first button on his pristine white shirt.

“I don’t remember you objecting the last time we did it.”

“Yeah,  _well_ , the last time we did it… it was Sunday, it was smack in the middle of August, and we were about the only two people in this damned palace. And you didn’t have a meeting with your council in, wait, forty fucking minutes, where you have to convince them that giving me northern citizenship is worth my dad’s reaction, which in the best case would be, I dunno, cutting every single tie he has with the North in any sense. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I don’t really think that it’s the right moment for me to blow you  _in the room where you’re supposed to hold the damned council_.”

Robb seems to consider the objection, then shrugs minutely and puts a knee on the table behind Theon’s back. He pushes away the bronze crown he has to wear during this kind of meeting which had been resting on the table’s edge, and now Theon’s more or less trapped. Not that he  _wants_  to get out, mind it, but still.

“All things considered, it can’t take more than twenty minutes if we’re quick about it. If I keep the window open and we’re careful, there won’t be any need to clean up. And this is my  _old_  suit - if I run back to my room and change, I can still be here on time. That said, you seem to forget a couple of things.”

“Like  _what_.”

“First, that your father hasn’t traded with us or used our banks or done  _anything_  more than strictly necessary since he lost the rebellion, so it’s not like the economy will crumble if we don’t have relations with the Iron Islands anymore. Second, that it was mainly the North financing the rebuilding after said rebellion, which means you lot owe our lot enough money by now, and he’d be an idiot if he decided to rebel again. Everyone would think it’s because he doesn’t want to pay up. Third, that the last word is still  _mine_ , so this entire thing is a formality. They can disagree with me or not, but if they do, too bad, no one can stop me from going through with it. Also, if you’d rather have  _me_  blow you -”

“You know that someone can walk in?”

“So what, according to Jon and Sansa  _everyone_  knows anyway.”

“ _What_?”

“Looks like we haven’t been very subtle. Or that we ever were very subtle.”

Considering that they’ve been together since long before Robb’s coronation a few months ago, he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or even more worried since they thought they were being careful.

Yeah, maybe not so much.

Never mind that considering the way Robb is looking at him -

“You wouldn’t even  _mind_  if someone caught us, damn you.”

Robb keeps on smiling beatifically, inching a tiny bit closer. “I really think I wouldn’t.”

And - thing is, if Theon was any good at refusing Robb Stark, he’d have started fifteen years ago when Robb was six, Theon was eleven and had been sent to Winterfell to ‘foster good relations’, which was just a very politically correct way of saying that Ned Stark wasn’t going to lend his father that much money for the reconstruction  _after_  being nice enough to leave him in his place even after a failed revolution unless he got at least some leverage. Which translated into asking for a hostage, which is a practice no one in Westeros had brought up in the last one hundred and fifty years, but of course had to be resurrected for the occasion. So it had ended up with his dad not even thinking twice after hearing the terms before saying that out of his four children  _he_  would have gone, and Theon hasn’t forgotten it once. So he hadn’t been exactly a ray of sunshine upon coming to Winterfell, and Robb had been the only idiot trying to be friends with him and - well, Theon hasn’t ever been able to refuse him, as stated.

Even if he should, because Robb might be nonchalant about it but Theon knows what it entails - as things are right now, he can’t even leave the North in the first place and he can’t go back until his dad actually asks to review the agreement. He hasn’t done that in the months since Ned Stark died, so Theon doubts he even has it in his plans. And if Robb actually goes through with it - well, Theon’s name will get erased from every Greyjoy family tree in existence, but at least he could, well, stop feeling like being in a golden cage all the damned time. And he could, well, work for Robb or for the government or for  _whatever_ , since he can’t hold a job in his situation and even if he could, no one’s ever heard of someone from any royal family working for another royal family.

“Fine,” Theon says, “you win, you win, I’m blowing you. On one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“Wear the damned crown. It’s sexy.”

“Really?”

“Totally. Or at least, on you? It totally works.”

“Good, because it’s the least comfortable thing in existence. But by all means, who am I to say not.”

“King in the North,” Theon mutters as Robb leaves him some room so he can drop down to his knees under the table - Robb is grabbing his usual chair so he can sit down -, “my ass. More like  _kink_  in the North, if you ask me.”

Robb laughs without even bothering to keep his voice down and puts on the crown before leaning back on the seat.

“Well, who says you don’t have a point. But I don’t see you complaining either, do I?”

Yeah,  _well_ , he’s right, Theon’s hardly complaining about it. His right hand grabs a fistful of freshly ironed fabric while he opens up Robb’s belt with his left one, and he thinks,  _if it goes through does it mean that he might not even give a shit about pretending to keep it a secret anymore?_

He’s almost surprised to find out that he really couldn’t care less if Robb actually  _did_  stop giving a shit about keeping it secret, and he smiles to himself as he moves his head downwards - after all, he has twenty minutes at most and there’d be no point in wasting them now.

 

End.


End file.
